


A time for family

by Ailendolin



Series: To Boldly Go - a Blakefield Star Trek AU [2]
Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Half-Vulcan Will, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, M/M, Sleigh Ride, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailendolin/pseuds/Ailendolin
Summary: Blakefield Winter Wonderland 2020: Day 19: Going on a Sleigh RideWhen Tom learns that Scho won’t be going home to Vulcan for the holidays, he takes matters into his own hands and invites him to spend Christmas with him and his family in England.
Relationships: Joseph Blake/Lieutenant Leslie, Tom Blake & William Schofield, Tom Blake/William Schofield
Series: To Boldly Go - a Blakefield Star Trek AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064024
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12
Collections: Walking In A Blakefield Wonderland





	A time for family

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 2 of my Star Trek AU and set during Tom and Scho's first year at Starfleet Academy. You don't need to have read the first story in this verse since it's set several years after this. 
> 
> Also, no knowledge of Star Trek is required except for the following:  
> \- Vulcans rely on logic and never show their emotions. Scho, as a half Vulcan, half human, is more prone to emotional reactions because of his human heritage.  
> \- Vulcans blush green.   
> \- Betazoids are telepaths and can sense thoughts and emotions. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own neither 1917 nor Star Trek and make no money with this.

**A time for family**

It was late. The sun had set long ago and Tom felt like he’d been staring at the same text passage for hours. One would expect he’d be good at Xenolinguistics given how much he liked to talk but learning new languages had never been his thing. The fact that this was the last exam before the winter break didn’t help either. He felt tired and stressed, his brain struggling with having to absorb too much information in too little time. The words kept blurring together in front of his eyes, making them not only difficult to read but downright impossible to understand, and he swore he would _scream_ if he had to interpret one more line of Talaxian poetry today.

With a frustrated groan, he pushed his padd as far away as he could and let his head fall to the table with a soft thud. Alerted by the noise, Scho looked up from his own padd. He stared at Tom for a few seconds before he raised one of his eyebrows. “Have you finished your analysis already?”

Tom snorted. “I wish.” He shifted his head a bit so he could squint up at Scho. “This _sucks_. I can’t wait to go home for the holidays and not hear a single thing about alliterations and anaphors and a-whatevers for three blessed weeks.”

Scho remained quiet, and when the silence stretched too long, Tom lifted his head to get a proper look at him. Scho seemed far away, his eyes staring at something only he could see just above Tom’s left shoulder.

“Hey,” Tom said quietly, sitting up straight. “What is it?”

Scho blinked and returned to the present. He met Tom’s eyes for a brief moment before he gazed down at his neatly folded hands and muttered, “Nothing of importance.”

If the alarm bells in Tom’s head hadn’t already been ringing like crazy because of Scho’s uncharacteristic behaviour, they certainly would have now because Vulcan’s didn’t mutter. That was a fact. They never averted their eyes, either, and yet Scho was doing exactly that right now. Granted, he was only Half-Vulcan but Tom had never seen him act like this before. Usually, Scho faced everything head on, sometimes being almost brutal in his honesty when he did so, and every problem was tackled with logical, scientific reasoning. In the few months they had known each other Tom could count the times he had seen Scho react emotionally to something, be it an unkind word or a scientific struggle, on one hand, so seeing him so obviously upset now both surprised and unsettled him.

He had no idea how to deal with that. Starfleet classes didn’t really cover ‘What to do when your Half-Vulcan friend is having emotions in front of you”. So Tom resorted to what he had learned always worked best with Scho: provoke a reaction by doing something illogical and unexpected.

“I thought Vulcans didn’t lie.”

And sure enough, Scho’s head snapped up at his words. “They do not,” he confirmed with a hint of indignation.

“Then why were you lying to me just now?” Tom asked.

Scho stared at him for a beat or two, clearly surprised that Tom called him out on it, before he schooled his features into a neutral expression once more. He straightened his shoulders and back and took a deep, deliberate breath as if he was preparing himself for something unpleasant.

“I was not lying,” he insisted. “My personal … feelings on the matter are of no importance to this conversation.”

“Your personal –?” Tom began to ask, then thought better of it. That question would lead him nowhere. “What matter are we talking about here exactly?”

“You going home for the holidays,” Scho said in a way that made it clear he thought that was obvious. “I did not realize you were not staying at the Academy over winter break, and I must admit the news took me by surprise.”

Tom frowned at him, still not following. “Why? Everyone’s off visiting friends and family over the holidays. It’s not unusual for people to …”

He trailed off as a horrible thought began to take shape in his mind. He took in the way Scho’s hands were clenched so tightly together it looked downright painful, and how he kept staring at the table top to keep his thoughts and feelings hidden – as if he was ashamed he wasn’t made of stone. Realization dawned, dark and ugly, and Tom felt his stomach sink.

“You’re staying here, aren’t you?” he said softly.

“I am,” he confirmed matter-of-factly. His eyes briefly flitted back to Tom’s. “I should not have assumed you would as well. You talk so much about your family that it is obvious you love them very much and would go home to see them if the opportunity presented itself.”

Tom bit his lip. He should have noticed that something was wrong. The clues had been there the whole time – he knew Scho hadn’t begun packing yet, and he’d never heard him mention any plans for the holidays – but Tom had been too blind and preoccupied with his exams to see them. He felt awful for not realizing sooner that Scho would be staying at the Academy over winter break instead of going home to Vulcan. Scho might act like it didn’t bother him but Tom could see it did. He couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like to have nowhere to go to for the holidays, no one to welcome you home with open arms.

While he didn’t know a lot about Scho’s family – only that his human father died almost a decade ago in a shuttle crash during a diplomatic mission, and that Scho was raised by his Vulcan mother and grandfather from then on – Tom had a feeling Scho’s childhood hadn’t been a happy one. If it had been, Scho wouldn’t be sitting in front of him right now, fingers clenching around the edge of the table and clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. Surrounded by stacks of padds and nothing else he looked lonely, Tom thought. The sight reminded him of the day they had first met, when he found Scho sitting on his own in the front row of the lecture hall while everyone else was pairing of in the rows behind him, chatting excitedly before the start of their first class. Scho had looked lonely back then, too, and tried so hard not to let it show that he’d achieved the exact opposite.

Scho would never admit it but Tom knew he craved companionship and comfort like any other person. Vulcan culture had just always taught him he shouldn’t want or need that, so Scho had never asked for it, maybe not even knowing how to.

Luckily for him, Tom wasn’t Vulcan. He didn’t need Scho to spell it out for him – at least not anymore than he already had – to know that Scho didn’t want to spend the holidays alone. Tom didn’t want that either. The easiest solution to this problem, he figured, would be to invite Scho to come to England with him. It might be a little short notice but Tom was sure his mother wouldn’t mind. Joe was bringing home a friend as well, after all, and it wasn’t like it would be the first time either. Leslie, originally from Betazed, was practically family by now. He and Joe had met during their own first year at the Academy and became inseparable after their first shared assignment. They now served together on the USS _Devon II_ , and Tom’s mother had a picture of the two of them up on her living room wall from the launch a year ago, both in their dress uniforms with their new lieutenant’s pips freshly polished.

So no, Tom’s mother certainly wouldn’t mind if Tom brought Scho home with him for the holidays. Scho, on the other hand, would most likely not be so easily convinced. By now, Tom had known him long enough to be fairly sure that Scho would think he was only bring invited out of pity if Tom just straight up asked him to come along. Scho would decline the invitation on principle and Tom would go home alone with a heavy heart.

Tom shook his head. That wouldn’t do. He needed to be clever about this instead of rushing into it, just like Scho was so fond of telling him during their practical classes. He thought of home and all the things that made the holidays with his family special. One thing in particular stood out.

“Have you ever seen snow?” he asked.

Scho frowned at him for one very long moment, clearly thrown by the sudden change of topic, before he said, “I have not. Average temperatures on Vulcan range from 43.3 °C to 51.6 °C, making it impossible for ice crystals to form.”

Tom smiled. He had neither expected anything less than precise numbers from Scho nor a different answer. “Would you like to see it?”

Scho paused. “There is only a 0.01 percent chance of snow in San Francisco,” he pointed out instead of answering the question.

“I’ve heard the chances of snowfall in England are a lot higher,” Tom mused.

Scho nodded. “You are correct.”

Tom grinned. “So let me ask you again: would you _like_ to see snow?”

A hint of something that could only be tentative hope slowly, tentatively lit up Scho’s eyes. “I would be lying if I said I was not curious about it,” he said rather stiffly.

“Then why don’t you come home with me for the holidays?” Tom finally asked. He leaned forward in his seat. “It’s like a winter wonderland back home this time of year. Everything is white, and sometimes we get so much snow whole branches break off the trees because it weighs so much.”

To his disappointment, Scho shook his head. “No. This is a time for family and –“

“You’re my best friend,” Tom blurted out before he could think better of it. Screw being clever about things. That had never worked for him. “I mean it, Scho. I want to have you there, with me and my family. You won’t impose or overstep or whatever else is your pretty Vulcan head is thinking right now. I promise.” Scho’s hands slowly unclenched from the table, and Tom allowed himself to smile. “Joe is also bringing someone home, so you wouldn’t be the only one there who’s not strictly family. The more the merrier, my mum always says.”

Scho bit his lip, something Tom had never seen him do before. He chose to read it as a good sign. “Your mother –“

“– would love to meet you,” Tom said. “In fact, she told me so just last week. And the week before that. And the one before _that_.” He shrugged. “Apparently, I talk about you a lot.”

“Really?” Scho asked, looking a bit intrigued.

Tom nodded. “Really.” What he didn’t mention was how his mother’s eyes had twinkled with barely contained laughter when she told him that Scho was welcome in her home any time, or how Joe had teased him just yesterday about how _fascinated he seemed to be with Vulcans all of a sudden_ as he had called it.

(“Love’s the word you’re looking for, for fuck’s sake,” Leslie had called from the background, causing Tom to turn as red as a tomato. “He’s _in love_ with the Vulcan. You don’t need to be a Betazoid to figure that shit out.”)

“So, will you come with me?” Tom asked, banishing that memory to the far corner of his mind. “I promise you’ll like it.”

A second or two passed, and then Scho took in a deep breath. “If you are really sure …”

“Of course I am!” Tom grinned, huffing out a laugh of pure relief. “This is going to be _great_!”

He pumped his fist into the air and watched the corners of Scho’s mouth twitch a little with the beginning of a smile he couldn’t quite hide. Warmth pooled in Tom’s stomach at the sight. Scho might not grin or laugh like humans did, but seeing this sign of pure happiness on his face, too large to be contained despite years of Vulcan training, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“In this case, I would be pleased to accompany you home,” Scho said softly. Shyly, he added. “Thank you, Tom.”

Tom smiled at him, brimming with happiness. “You’re very much welcome,” he said warmly. “Always.”

Scho held his eyes for a moment longer before his gaze fell back to the padds littering the table. Tom swore he could pinpoint the exact second Scho that remembered discussing holiday plans was not the original purpose of their meeting.

“Now, Talaxian poetry is best known for its use of the following rhetoric devices …”

Tom groaned.

* * *

One week later, Tom materialized in the middle of the English countryside about a kilometre away from his family’s old farmhouse. The air was cool and crisp, smelling of snow, and everywhere he looked the softly rolling hills were blanketed in brilliant white. The worry and tension that had plagued him since his first exam three weeks ago finally fell away from him as he took his first deep breath of the winter air.

Home.

It felt good to be finally back.

He smiled and turned to Scho, eager to see his reaction to seeing snow for the first time in his life. When he saw the open-mouthed look of wonder on his friend’s face, so out of place and endearingly human, he couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?”

Scho blinked as if waking from a dream. His cheeks were dusted green – though whether from embarrassment or the cold Tom didn’t know.

“It is astounding,” Scho breathed. “My father showed me pictures but I never realized it was like … _this_.”

Tom’s smile softened. “Beautiful?”

“Breath-taking,” Scho said.

He turned around in a circle, looking at the pale sky, the white clouds, and the sparkling fields that seemed to stretch to the horizon in every direction. He couldn’t seem to get enough of it, and Tom gave him a moment to drink it all in before he scooped up some snow in his hands and gently tapped Scho’s shoulder to get his attention.

“This is what we call a snowball,” he explained. “Joe and I, we used to have snowball fights all the time when we were kids. We built fords in the orchard and spent hours trying to hit each other. Like this,” he grinned and threw the roughly shaped ball at Scho.

Scho frowned at him before he looked down at the snow that was slowly dripping down his jacket, decidedly unimpressed. “And you did this for … fun?” he asked sceptically.

Tom huffed out a laugh. “Oh yes.”

To his surprise, Scho then bent down and scooped up some of the snow into his own hands. Tom watched silently as he carefully formed it into a small ball and stared at it in quiet contemplation.

“It is quite cold,” Scho stated. “How do you stand it?”

“Well,” Tom said. “We usually wear gloves.”

“I see,” Scho said. He gave Tom a calculating look, and before Tom could even think about ducking the snowball hit him squarely in the chest. The expression on Scho’s face remained as passive as ever but Tom thought he could detect a hint of amusement when Scho raised one of his eyebrows and said, “Fascinating. I think I understand why you get joy from this.”

Tom chuckled and brushed off the snow. A thought began to form in his mind, and he grinned.

“Is your aim always this accurate?” he asked, and before Scho could give him an exact number, he added, “Yes or no answer, please.”

“Yes,” Scho said.

Tom’s grin widened. “Perfect. Joe and Leslie won’t stand a chance when we challenge them to a fight.”

“I thought this was a children’s game?” Scho said, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

“So?” Tom asked. “Since when has that ever stopped me?”

Scho considered that for a moment, and Tom knew he remembered several instances in the last few months when Tom behaved less like the adult and responsible Starfleet cadet he was supposed to be and more like an overexcited five-year-old in a toy store. “Point taken,” he finally said.

Tom clapped him on the back. “It’s going to be great, trust me. Now let’s get going before you turn into a Vulcan popsicle.”

He set out towards the direction of the farmhouse, his boots crunching in the snow. Next to him, Scho matched his pace easily despite the unfamiliar terrain.

“It is not physically possible for me to turn into a popsicle,” he pointed out after a few steps.

Tom snorted. “Never change, Scho. Never change.”

* * *

Tom had been a little worried about the Blake Christmas shenanigans being a bit too much for Scho but to his surprise Scho took to the holiday chaos like a fish took to water. He seemed utterly fascinated by the lights adorning all the windows, the music Tom’s mom insisted on listening to all day, the different kinds of cookies she never tired of baking every year and, not to forget, the tree Joe and Leslie dragged in this morning and they all decorated together.

That night, when they lay in bed, Scho turned to him, his pale face lit warmly by the soft glow of the Christmas lights in Tom’s window, and asked, “Is it always like this?”

There was a wistfulness to his tone that made Tom’s heart ache. He nodded, not knowing what to say, and heard Scho sigh. “I think I understand now why you were so eager to come back. Your home and family are lovely, as are your traditions.”

They were, Tom silently agreed, but they weren’t as special as Scho made them sound. He knew lots of families all across the universe had holiday traditions like this. It was clear that Scho’s, however, wasn’t one of them. Even though Tom only knew a little about Scho’s childhood, it wasn’t hard to imagine a small blond boy with pointy ears coming home to a silent, empty house every day after school and going straight to his room to study for the next few hours instead of playing outside – all in an effort not to fall behind his peers and give them even more reason to pick on him. Tom had read enough between the lines of what Scho had told him about his life on Vulcan in the last few months to know that being the only Half-Vulcan on the planet had automatically singled him out, and not in a good way. The other children ignored him at best and pushed him around at worst. Tom had seen this happening at his own school, too, and quickly put an end to it by becoming friends with the French girl who couldn’t speak more than a few stray words of English back then.

But Scho didn’t have anyone like Tom at his school. There had been only Vulcan children, and the thought of him sitting alone at a table at lunch every single day, just like Lauri had all those years ago, and watching everyone else pair off and talk about their day made him want to go to Vulcan and find Scho’s peers so he could shake them until they understood just how much damage their constant ignorance had done.

While Lauri’s life had steadily gotten better after Tom had intervened – she was now looking forward to following him to Starfleet Academy after she finished school next year – Scho’s had only gotten worse the older he got. He had been ten when his father died in a shuttle crash on a a diplomatic mission in the Beta Quadrant the Federation had sent him on.

Tom knew what that felt like. Even now, years later, the grief he felt over the loss of his own father was still there, sometimes simmering just beneath the surface and ready to flood him without warning. It was the smallest things that could set it off – the smell of freshly baked bread and the sight of his old bottle of cologne in the bathroom cabinet were just a few of them. It sometimes felt like it had only been yesterday when they had buried an empty coffin.

Tom still missed his father fiercely and he would bet Scho missed his too. Maybe even more so because along with this father Scho had lost what little human kindness and love he’d had in his life up until that point as well. These last few days here in England had probably been the first time in a long while that Scho had experienced the warmth of a loving family. While Tom didn’t doubt that Scho’s mother and the rest of his family loved him he was also aware that Vulcans expressed their love differently than humans. They weren’t affectionate in their words and gestures. They didn’t fill the room with cheerful laughter or drew their children close when they had scraped their knees.

For Vulcans that distant love might be enough but Will wasn’t Vulcan. He was half-human, and to be deprived of friendship and human comfort for much of his childhood had obviously left its scars on him.

It showed in the way Scho lingered every evening in the living room to listen to the stories Tom’s mother liked to tell instead of retiring to bed early like he usually did at the Academy. It showed in his eagerness to learn how to bake or play the latest game Joe and Leslie had found in the attic just so he could enjoy their company a little longer. Tom had always thought Scho preferred solitude over social interactions but seeing the look on his face now, both wistful and content at the same time, he realized that assessment hadn’t been true at all. Scho loved being surrounded by people – he was just scared of rejection.

It was that thought that made him whisper, “This can be your home, too, you know?”

Scho looked away from him. “I already have a home, Tom.”

Tom frowned. “Well, then this can be your home away from home,” he decided. “Mom has practically adopted you already so I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do about it, really. You’re an honorary Blake now whether you like it or not.”

He smiled at Scho, open and hopeful, but Scho’s fingers kept worrying the edge of the blanket restlessly. He looked torn and a little bit lost. Tentatively, Tom reached out and placed his hand on Scho’s arm. The fingers stilled.

“Scho?”

“Your mother is very generous with her affections,” Scho finally murmured. He glanced at Tom. “And so are you.”

Tom chuckled softly. “Must be part of the Blake genes.”

Scho shook his head. “Genetics doesn’t work like that. You should know that after our class on –“

Quick as lightning, Tom put his hands over his ears. “La la la! Sorry, can’t hear you!” he said loudly. “No talk of classes during the holidays!”

Scho blinked at him, a look of soft confusion on his face, before one corner of his mouth faintly twitched with the beginnings of a smile. “I apologize,” he said.

They were both quiet for a while as the snow continued to gently fall outside the window. Scho’s fingers, so restless before, now lay on top of his blanket unmoving. He looked at ease in Tom’s old childhood bedroom, as if he belonged there and always had, and Tom realized he not only wanted Scho to come back home with him for next year’s Christmas but for all the other holidays and special occasions in-between as well. He wanted him to be a part of his life outside of the Academy, a part of his family in more than just words. He wanted Scho to know about _all_ their traditions – from the stories behind the handmade Christmas ornaments he and Joe made as kids with the help of their father and their mom still insisted on putting on the tree every year, to the sleigh rides his father used to take him on and he still missed with all his heart.

When he looked at Scho now, those memories didn’t feel as bittersweet as they usually did. Instead of making him want to curl up under his blankets and long for the past Tom felt the urge to recreate them and share that experience with someone just like his father had shared it with him. He hadn’t taken the old wooden sleigh out of the barn in years, the mere sight of it always too painful to bear, but for some inexplicable reason he knew in his heart that with Scho he would be alright.

Maybe because Scho wasn’t just anyone. Scho was his best friend, the one person Tom didn’t feel the need to put on a smile for all the time. If anyone could appreciate his father’s legacy, small and personal as it might be, it would be Scho. Vulcans might consider his attachment to an old sleigh illogical, but Tom knew Scho wouldn’t. He’d understand because he’s experienced the same kind of loss at too young an age.

So for the first time since his father’s death, Tom opened up about it.

“I never told anyone this but my dad used to take me on sleigh rides every year,” he quietly began. “It was our thing, you know? Joe couldn’t come along because he’s allergic to horses and mum never wanted to. She doesn’t like the cold very much. So it was just Dad and me, and after he died I … I couldn’t bear to keep up the tradition on my own.” His eyes met Scho’s. “Would you like to go on a sleigh ride with me tomorrow?”

Scho’s face softened in quiet understanding. Seeing the warmth in his eyes, so open and unguarded for once, almost felt as good as a hug.

“I would be honoured,” Scho said.

* * *

The next morning, Tom grabbed Scho’s wrist and dragged him outside the moment breakfast was over.

“Where are you going?” his mother called after them with a laugh.

“I’m taking Scho on a sleigh ride!” he hollered back.

Neither of them saw his mother’s eyes misting over as she looked after them through the window or the way Joe smiled, a little misty-eyed, and reached for her hand.

(They heard, however, Leslie shout after them, “Have fun, lovebirds!” to which Tom flipped him the finger.)

The morning sun made the fields around them glitter like crystals and their breath was fogging in the air as Tom led Scho towards the barn. They found the sleigh in the corner in the back, hidden beneath a large tarp that Tom unceremoniously pulled off in one fluid motion. Despite the years, it seemed to be in good condition. The white paint was peeling off the wood in some places, but overall it looked just like Tom remembered it.

He expected the old familiar sadness to wash over him at the sight of the sleigh, and it did, a little bit. But mostly he felt happy with excitement that he could show Scho one of the best parts of his childhood. He ran his hand over the old, familiar frame with a smile, knowing his father would be proud of him right now.

Scho stepped up next to him, mimicking the movement, and Tom’s smile widened.

“Help me get it out?”

It took a bit of work, but in the end they got the sleigh out of the barn and onto the field without too much trouble. While Tom went looking for blankets in case they got cold during the ride, Scho went to the stables to lead Old Jenny outside. He seemed to have a knack for earning the trust of animals, something they’d discovered on the first day of their visit when Myrtle was so overjoyed to see him she gave Scho kisses the moment he walked through the door even though she usually growled at every stranger who dared to come too close to the house – something Leslie could confirm.

So it was no surprise when, after that happy greeting, Scho also made friends with Scrappy the feral cat, Dum-Dum the pigeon Tom’s mother had nursed back to health last summer when it broke a wing after flying straight into the closed door of the barn, various chickens, sheep and cows and, of course, Old Jenny, the horse Tom had learned horseback riding on as a kid. Of all the animals she seemed to be the one most taken with Scho, and after Tom showed him how to bridle her, Scho had insisted on taking Old Jenny along on all their morning walks with Myrtle. Not that Tom minded. How could he when Scho looked more content than Tom had ever seen him leading her over the snowy fields?

He had the same look of quiet contentment on his face now as he came out of the barn with her in tow. Tom swore the horse’s eyes went wide when she saw the sleigh, clearly remembering it from all those years ago. There was a new spring in her step when she trotted ahead of Scho, eager to get closer.

Tom smiled and deposited the blankets in the sleigh.

“Hey old girl,” he greeted Old Jenny, gently scratching her nose when she butted her head against him in affection. “You remember this, don’t you?”

She neighed as if to confirm his thoughts and stepped in front of the sleigh without needing to be prompted. Tom chuckled and started attaching the reins and various straps to her harness. He was surprised that his fingers still remembered all the steps his father had taught him. They never faltered, not with one single buckle, and when he was done he allowed himself a moment to take in the sight of his father’s old sleigh being ready for the first time in over a decade. He smiled as a hundred happy memories swelled within him, and when he met Scho’s eyes across Old Jenny’s back and saw him looking back at him with something that could only be described as fond understanding, he allowed his smile to widen into a grin.

“What are you waiting for? Hop on!”

If Scho were human, he would have probably huffed out a laugh at Tom’s words. Since he wasn’t he merely raised his eyebrow to show his amusement. He gave Old Jenny one last gentle pat, making the bells on her harness ring softly, before he climbed onto the sleigh – much more gracefully than Tom had, Tom noted – and sat down in the empty space in the front. Once he was seated Tom reached for the reins. They were old and worn but his mother must have taken good care of them throughout the years because the leather felt as smooth in his hands as it had years ago when his father had handed the reins over to him for the first time. He still remembered the smile on his father’s face, the proud look when Tom drove them slowly but surely through the winter landscape as if he’d done it a dozen times before.

“I was so proud back then,” he told Scho with a wistful smile. “Driving the sleigh on my own – it felt like the biggest accomplishment of my life.” He let out a chuckle. “Pretty silly, huh?”

Scho immediately shook his head, his eyes never leaving Tom’s face. “It is not,” he said, and his words were so soft Tom ducked his head.

“Yeah, maybe not,” he said. He glanced at Scho. “Are you ready for your first sleigh ride?”

“I am,” Scho simply said.

Tom gripped the reins tighter, took a deep breath, and gently urged Old Jenny forward. The sleigh jolted and then they were slowly but smoothly driving away from the farmhouse, the sound of bells filling the air. Old Jenny easily followed his commands, no matter how faintly Tom tugged at the reins, and it wasn’t long until they were out in the open, surrounded by nothing but white fields and light grey sky that held the promise of snow.

Tom knew a sleigh ride didn’t really compare to the sensation of flying a shuttle for the first time, so when he looked over at Scho and saw the same kind of childlike wonder he felt right now reflected in his eyes, he was more than a little surprised.

“You like it?” he asked.

Scho nodded. “It is … unlike anything I have ever experienced on Vulcan. You are lucky your father shared this with you.”

Tom smiled. “I know.”

“And I am lucky you are now sharing it with me,” Scho continued quietly.

Flustered, Tom readjusted his hold on the reins.

Old Jenny was steadily pulling them towards the river at the border of their property and with the sight of it, memories Tom had thought long forgotten suddenly returned to him.

“Dad used to take me here to feed the ducks,” he remembered in awe. “I always wanted to pet them and ran after them, right to the edge of the water. I was six or so the first time I almost fell in. Dad caught me by my jacket just in time.” He chuckled at the memory. “He spent the whole ride home lecturing me on the dangers of lakes and rivers.”

Scho gave him a look. “You must not have been listening well seeing as you jumped after me into a river just last month.”

Tom let out a laugh as he thought back to the disaster that had been their first class of Survival Strategies. “What was I supposed to do? You were drowning!”

“I was not,” Scho told him rather indignantly.

“Were too!” Tom argued, still laughing. “You’re just too proud to admit it.”

Scho let out a sigh. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “It was still illogical of you to put your life at risk because of me.”

Tom paused, struck by a sudden realization: illogical or not, he didn’t regret risking his life for Scho. Jumping after him into the river had been an instinctive reaction. Seeing Scho go under and not knowing whether or not he could swim had been enough to prompt him into action while their classmates had stood rooted to the spot. And when he looked at Scho now, at his kind blue eyes that seemed to stare into his very soul, Tom knew with utmost certainty that he would do it again. He would jump into the coldest rivers, climb the highest mountains, cross the stormiest seas and travel to the ends of the universe if it meant Scho would keep looking at him like that, as if Tom was something he couldn’t quite understand but was still grateful for.

So he smiled at Scho and told him exactly that. “I’d do it again, and I’m not sorry about that.”

Next to him, Scho went still. “You would?” he asked.

Tom nodded. “In a heartbeat.”

Scho exhaled softly before he did something he had never done before: he reached across the space between them to let his gloved hand rest upon Tom’s.

Tom almost let go of the reins in shock. He stared at Scho, then at their hands, then back at Scho, his mouth hanging open.

“So would I,” Scho said, and it sounded like he was talking about one of the constants of the universe instead of _Tom_ who was just an ordinary human being and never knew when to shut up. He gave Tom’s hand a squeeze, clumsy and too quick, and in some distant corner of his mind Tom realized that Scho had probably never done this before – that this was the first time he was holding someone’s hand in comfort and reassurance. The thought made his heart beat faster and he swallowed hard, suddenly hit with the knowledge that this was special.

That to Scho, _he_ was special.

Against his will his eyes began to burn, and Tom hastily cleared his throat before he flashed Scho a smile that felt a little wobbly. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Scho,” he said hoarsely.

Scho’s hand was still resting over his, warm and reassuring. “So am I,” he said.

They stared at each other and Tom held his breath, waiting for something, _anything_ to happen.

The moment was broken when Old Jenny stomped her feet impatiently and filled the air around them with the sound of a hundred little bells. Tom chuckled nervously, a little embarrassed even though nothing had happened, and allowed her to pull the sleigh away from the river. He glanced at Scho out of the corner of his eyes and then, in a bold movement, gently nudged him with his shoulder.

“You will never get rid of me now – you know that, right?” he asked. “You can fall in as many rivers as you like, I’ll always fish you out.”

“I am beginning to realize that, yes,” Scho agreed.

“I will talk your ear off and always try to steal your food,” Tom went on. “You will never get a moment of peace and quiet from now on.”

The left corner of Scho’s mouth twitched. “I am well aware of that,” he said. “I … I like that about you. In case that was not clear before.”

Tom ducked his head, feeling his cheeks heat up again, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning like a fool. A part of him wished he could let go off the reins and hold Scho’s hand properly. But that wasn’t an option, so he settled for scooting a little closer until their shoulders were pressed together.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he said, making sure Scho could hear the overwhelming amount of affection he felt in that moment in his voice. More softly, he added, “I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.”

He felt Scho lean against him. “Neither could I.”

They stayed like that, the blankets in the back forgotten as Old Jenny trotted over the frozen fields. Every now and then Tom readjusted his hold on the reins to steer her back towards the farm, and when he caught Scho watching his movements he offered them to him and taught him what to do just like his father had taught him all those years ago. He felt the same pride his father must have felt back then as he sat back and let Scho drive them over the snowy plains, steadfast and sure.

By the time the farmhouse appeared in the distance, heavy clouds had blocked out the sun, causing the temperatures to drop. A few snowflakes started dancing in the air, but pressed close to Scho as he was, Tom didn’t feel the cold at all.

Judging by the greenish colour of Scho’s cheeks, Tom wagered neither did Scho.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really happy with how some parts of this story turned out but no amount of revisions made it better so here it is lol. I hope it's still enjoyable :) 
> 
> If you want to, come say hi on [tumblr](https://ailendolin.tumblr.com/).


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